


God, I Love Her. [Dean x Reader]

by a_pathetic_apathetic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester and Feelings, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Fluffy Dean Winchester, Fluffy Ending, Fluffy reader, Loving Dean Winchester, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Romantic Dean Winchester, Supernatural - Freeform, Sweet Dean Winchester, bullied reader, dean winchester / you - Freeform, depressed reader, fluffy dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 07:33:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7305472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_pathetic_apathetic/pseuds/a_pathetic_apathetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was like magic. The world had disappeared. </p><p>Just you, Dean, and the butterflies in your stomach. </p><p>Kissing Dean was magic. <i>He </i>was magic.</p><p>Dean brought you back to life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	God, I Love Her. [Dean x Reader]

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! This fic is just a fluffy oneshot I did because I've been deprived of Dean Winchester. Hellatus and whatnot. I haven't really got much to say for this so, enjoy your read, and tell me what you think! <3

You and the boys had gotten back from the second murder site of your current hunt. Before you could leave, Sam thought he had spotted what you were hunting. The three of you had run after it for hours on end, and the sun was already setting when it had finally ended up a wild goose chase. 

Long story short, you all had had enough hunting for the day. 

Now you were here, in Dean’s bedroom, reading a book and already feeling 300 times better. 

Dean was sitting on the floor, sifting through a magazine. His back was leaning against the left side of the bed. You were lying across it on your stomach, your head facing Dean’s direction. You read your book in peace as you ran your free hand through Dean’s hair, feeling it slide through your fingers, gently massaging his scalp with your fingertips. 

This was nice. Better than nice, really. You hadn’t felt this good in a while.

Dean Winchester, believe it or not, was your boyfriend. (Say _what_!?)

If you went back four years to when you first met the brothers and told yourself you’d be dating the cute one, you’re eyes would’ve bulged out of your damn skull. Especially considering the state you were in back then.

In a good way, that is. If it’s possible to have your eyes bulge out of your skull in a good way. 

But _God_ , do you love him. You love him like your life depends on it. 

In a way, it _does,_ now that you think about it.

Dean was… Dean was something else. Dean was something special. 

You never thought much of yourself. You weren’t the best daughter, you weren’t the most social kid in school, you weren’t the most attractive person. You weren’t the most anything, really. 

And it hit you real hard at first, to have people make you realize that. Because of course, no one’s born with that mindset. Kids always believe they’re unique. That they’re destined for something great. 

You were that kid, once.

But then you began to see the truth. And you saw it through everyone around you. It started with your parents. Simply the way they’d look at you. First with anger… then hopelessness… then, nothing. Disgust, perhaps. Disappointment. You had become nothing more than a costly, space-wasting pest. 

It hurt. To believe everyone around you loved you, thought you were worth more than harsh words and hateful looks. And to then see that slowly fade away, right before your eyes. Every time you thought you had gotten the worst of it, something new would settle itself in. A new insult. Another one of your moms distasteful sneers. Another one of your dads lectures on you not being good enough. Another teacher at school, another group of kids ganging up on you, another class for you to be humiliated in front of, another dark, dark thought. 

You thought you’d never get rid of them. Those thoughts. 

When you finally ran away, you took up hunting. It was a great way to start a new life, you thought. For you at least. You figured out how to make fake badges, fake IDs, and the credit card swindles came in handy for food and shelter. 

You could start over.

But the darkness stayed with you. Constantly nipping at your head, repeating harsh words, playing back memories, telling you everyone was right about you. _Convincing_ you everyone was right.

You stayed in that hole for years. Your hunting skills increasing, your self-esteem decreasing. Putting yourself down time and time again, pushing yourself deeper than even you thought possible. 

You were a mess.

Until your life happened to intertwine with the famously infamous hunters. The Winchesters. 

The three of you hit it off immediately, getting so close they eventually insisted on you moving into the bunker with them. You’d be damned if you could explain how.

You had gotten close with Sam, of course, but Dean was a whole other story. 

You’d become closer with Dean than you’d ever been with anyone. You’d never had a relationship like this in your _life_. You had convinced yourself a bond so profound would never be possible for you when you were about fifteen. You made sure you got the idea out of your head. The idea that it was possible someone could love you and care for you, and _not_ show their true, dark and dirty colors when you were the most vulnerable. Because it gave you hope. And that little ray of hope was what made you vulnerable. Hope was what led you to trust bad people, hope was what made you let dark things into your life. Because _maybe, you hoped, maybe this time it won’t be a lie. Maybe this time something good will happen._

So how Dean managed to get through to you, you’d never really figure out. 

It took a while, and there’s definitely still work to do, but Dean Winchester, slowly but surely, was reviving you. 

No one had ever looked at you the way he would. You could see the kindness in his eyes, and now, the love. 

At first, you didn’t dare say it. You stayed in denial, refusing to let yourself believe for a second that someone cared. You buried away the shrivel of hope that had started to build up, along with the feelings you felt, churning at the bottom of your stomach every time you looked at him.

Love makes people softer, unfortified. It makes them vulnerable. And you had sworn to never let yourself fall into vulnerability again. 

But Dean knew. He knew how you felt, because he had been there. 

He told you everything. How he had been exactly where you were. Pushing everything down, trying to stay strong by going cold. Initially you thought he was lying. He _must_ have been! 

One look at Dean, and you’d have thought he could carry boulders of weight on his shoulders. He looked so strong, so in control of himself. You’d never have expected this man to shed a tear. 

But you’ve learned. You’ve learned because Dean showed you the truth. The _real_ truth. 

Dean was strong. Of course he was. He was strong because he went through all you did, and he pushed his way through. 

And he did it with help. And needing help, accepting it, didn’t make him vulnerable. It made him stronger, all while remembering to be good to others, and to let others be good to him.

Dean did it. He made it through.

So, why couldn’t you? 

You realized you’d been staring at the same page since your mind had wandered off, silently cursing yourself. You readied yourself to continue reading, when you felt Dean’s head move. He must’ve felt your hand stop moving, now resting idly in his hair. 

You looked up to see Dean shifting his position, his right shoulder now leaning into the bed as he turned to look at you.

His eyes were crinkled from a kind little smile he had plastered on his lips, and you felt your heart leap, as your lips curled ever so slightly. 

“What?”

Dean didn’t answer your question, but instead beckoned you closer with his finger, a tinge of cheekiness revealing itself in his sweet little smile.

You couldn’t hold back your grin.

“Dean, what do you-”

He shut his eyes tight, and put a finger on his lips.

“Shhhhhhhhhh shh shh shhhh” 

He opened his eyes again, and brought his hand down from his lips as he too let out a grin he couldn’t hold back any longer, letting out a little chuckle when you giggled.

You never giggled before… well, Dean. You hadn’t even smiled in _years_ before you met Dean. 

Dean had made it normal for you to smile and laugh again. 

_He brought you back to life._

He beckoned you closer once more.

“Oh my God…” You laughed, shaking your head as you shifted slightly up the bed, so that your face was now closer to his. 

Dean’s smile suddenly fell into a serious expression, mildly confusing you.

He then closed his eyes, puckered his lips, and pointed to them expectantly. 

You laughed once more, Dean was good at doing that to you. He jokingly opened a single eye to look at you, before chuckling once more. _God, he was being so cute._

You huffed, blowing a strand of hair up from your face, smiling like you were trying not to smile. Dean’s grin had reduced to a peaceful, beaming look.

You leaned in, and kissed him. 

You only wish it lasted longer.

Before you could get any farther, you felt two hands grip you tightly. Dean smirked.

With a quick and effortless tug, you were yanked off the bed, letting out a yelp. Dean swiftly turned you around so he was holding you in his lap, cradling you - _squeezing_ you, rather- in his arms. Your legs thrashed around uselessly, but to no avail. 

You were trapped.

Not that you minded, obviously.

As both your laughter died down, you closed your eyes, and took a calming breath.

“That was uncalled for.” 

If Dean had closed his eyes, he would’ve _heard_ you smiling. But your voice was relaxed and breathy, and Dean would never have allowed himself to close his eyes through _that_.

You then opened your eyes, only to find Dean’s looking straight into them, kind and beautiful as ever, lips slightly parted.

Dean’s eyes were something of fiction. They stood out on his face like neon traffic lights, you could’ve spotted them a mile away. They were the most perplex things… always so full of expression and emotion. His eyes alone could speak every thought in his mind if he wanted them to.

You suddenly became very aware of your position. You were lying snugly in Dean’s lap now, on the carpeted floor of his bedroom. He had one arm around your torso, holding your back, and one hand supporting the back of your head, holding it up so you were facing him. 

He’d stared at you like this so many times, and every single time you had wondered just _what_ could’ve been so captivating. What on earth did you have that could cause _anyone_ to look at you so fondly? Let alone someone like _Dean_.

He always replied with something along the lines of, “You’re beautiful.” Or, “You’re amazing.”

Not that you ever believed him. You never thanked him, and you felt bad about it. But it felt more wrong to accept a compliment that wasn’t true.

You looked up at him now, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks, as it always did.

“ _Now_ what is it?” 

Your voice was softer now, shy. 

Dean simply beamed at you, and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, bringing his hand down to the side of your neck, stroking your cheek lovingly with his thumb.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” 

Today was… different. 

All at once, you felt a surge of bravery. You felt like you could step out of denial, _just_ for a second, just for today. You felt like you could accept this compliment, and you wouldn’t feel vulnerable.

One compliment… wouldn’t hurt, would it?

And this was Dean. This wasn’t someone who’d lie to you, lift you up only to push you further down. 

You trusted Dean. 

_…Beautiful._

Your heart fluttered and you smiled up at him sheepishly, feeling giddy at the sweetness of his words. 

_Were you really doing this?_

“You’re not so bad yourself, Dean-O.”

Dean felt happiness course through him, it coated every fibre of his being. Did he hear that right?

_She didn’t deny it. She finally didn’t deny it!_

He'd never been happier. He was _proud_ of you. He knew you found these things difficult. But you had just made the first step.

He couldn’t stop himself. He’d lost all control of his body. The room could’ve caught on fire, and Dean would still have found himself leaning down to kiss you.

_She’s so beautiful._

Closer… closer….

_Jesus, she’s incredible. I love her. I love her so much._

Dean closed his eyes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Every feature on his face was a work of art. 

_She’ll realize. One day. She’ll realize just how much I love her._

Dean’s face was art, and you’d devote your life to studying it in a heartbeat.

Soft lips now on yours, you closed your eyes. His lips moved in rhythm with yours, one hand on the back of your head, another moved to your cheek, stroking it lovingly with his thumb. 

It was like magic. The world had disappeared. 

Just you, Dean, and the butterflies in your stomach. 

Kissing Dean was magic. _He_ was magic.

Dean brought you back to life.

He pulled back gently, the tips of your noses just barely touching as he rests his head on your forehead. You felt his breath on your lips, his hand running through your hair… the only things keeping you from believing this was all some amazing dream. 

_God, I love her._

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed that! Please tell me what you thought, I'd love to hear. 
> 
> Have a lovely day fandom friends!


End file.
